


Outcasts Anyway

by RockSaltandCherryPie



Series: Outcasts Anyway [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, M/M, Plotty, Pre-Series, Sibling Incest, Wincest - Freeform, cabin fever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-02
Updated: 2014-04-02
Packaged: 2018-01-17 23:22:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1406380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RockSaltandCherryPie/pseuds/RockSaltandCherryPie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four years after "What does sex feel like?" Dean and Sam are alone again in a cabin up north.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Outcasts Anyway

**Author's Note:**

> This is meant as a sequel series to "What does sex feel like?" , but can also stand on its own!  
> 

The summer that Sam turned 17 was the summer things changed. It also happened to be the summer Dad made them pick up and leave yet another house and town they had just started to get comfortable with.

Now they were in some creaky remote cottage up north; not on any kind of vacation, just because that's where Dad had caught wind of a mysterious werewolf sighting, and a friend in the area had set them up there. They weren't sure if they were staying, so it was a good thing they always travelled light. But Dean did like how they had direct access to the lake behind the house. He had already swam in it almost every night since they got there. Still couldn't get his prudish little brother to join him, though.

Dad didn't want them getting involved in the hunt this time. Something about him and this family friend having it "taken care of." But a while ago Dean caught the bug — he had become addicted to the thrill of tracking down evil sons of bitches and eliminating them for good. So he hadn't taken it too well when Dad left and told them both he would call in a few days.

"Dad, let me come," he had insisted. But apparently seventeen was still too young for Sammy to be on his own (that rule apparently never applied to Dean).

"No. You boys are both going to stay here. And you're going to take care of Sammy, like you always do." And Dad was out the door without so much as a goodbye.

 

But Sam was still upset over the move, so mostly he sat in his room listening to music or by the large back window reading a book and was generally not a whole lot of fun.

That was the thing. For the past few years Dean found Sam wanting to spend less and less time with him. Not that he cared or anything, but Sam was more into his own stuff now like soccer and GPAs. Dean couldn't understand why that kind of stuff was so important to him, or his constant insistence on trying to fit in, when they got to see behind the veil. They got to _kill_ the things that went bump in the night and save people while doing it. Somehow that seemed far more important than any tournament cup or stuffy classroom.

 

"Sammy, come take a dip with me, let off a little steam," Dean tried, putting on his best grin.

Sam didn't even glance up.

Dean's face dropped. "Sam? Hello?"

"Huh?" Sam peeled his eyes away from his book finally. "What is it, Dean?"

Dean walked over and plucked the book from his hands. The writing on the cover was bold and black except for the word "spy" from the title, _Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy_. Dean made a face and tossed it on the coffee table.

"Come on, let's go for a swim."

Sam's eyebrows wrinkled but his mouth curved upwards in a smile. "Dean, it's like ten o'clock at night."

"Whatsa matter, you _scared_ , little brother?"

Sam scoffed. "Scared of _what_?"

Dean opened the sliding back door, slipping through it. "Getting your precious little ass bitten by Nessie!"

Dean bounded across the grass, shouting into the night. The cool air made him feel so alive. Since it was only late May, the air was still crisp with new life. He glanced back as his feet reached the wooden pier and saw Sam coming out, sliding the door shut behind him.

"Very funny," Sam shouted to him and it echoed out there, the only sound for miles.

Dean kicked his shoes off and let his jeans drop to his ankles. Then he stripped out of his shirt and discarded it on the pier, walking closer to the edge. The deep, dark water awaited him, and Dean felt a thrilling chill creep up his exposed spine at the sight of it. He shouted out as he leapt in, immediately feeling an invigorating rush of frigidity as he crashed under the surface.

When he came up, he saw Sam walking up the pier.

"Come on in, the water's great!" He said, shivering.

"I'm sure it is," Sam snickered. Then he put his hands in his pockets. "I don't know, Dean..."

"Aw, come on, don't leave me hangin' out here, Sammy." He swayed around, treading water. "You know, it wouldn't kill you to have a little fun once in a while."

Sam contemplated, eyeing Dean skeptically, but then gave in. He slid his pants off, revealing dark blue boxers that hugged his hips and thighs well.

Dean didn't know where Sam got off having such a good body for being such a dork, or who gave Sam permission to be as tall as Dean was, but it bugged him.

Sam cranked his neck both ways, preparing himself for the cool water. He came and sat on the edge of the pier and dunked his legs in first, hissing a bit at the temperature. Then he slid his whole body in, keeping his head above the surface.

"Jesus!" He shouted. "It's _freezing_!"

"You kept your t-shirt on, you pussy!"

"How do you even _enjoy_ this?" His voice still cracked all over the place and it made Dean smirk.

"You get used to it."

They treaded water in place, breathing heavy.

"I feel like," Sam started. "Like my heart's beating really fast, it's so cold."

"Yeah," Dean replied, then swam around a bit, floating on his back. "It's not so bad when you move around."

Sam did as Dean did, kicking his feet and treading slowly backwards.

"How many do you think are up there?" Sam asked after a few minutes passed with nothing but the sound of their labored breathing.

Dean knew he meant the stars without having to ask. "Who knows."

They bobbed around for a bit longer before Sam swam towards him and shivered, trying to warm himself with his arms. He smiled big as his teeth chattered.

And Dean knew, as soon as he wanted to wrap his arms around his little brother, pull him close, take whatever was left of his body heat and give it to Sam, that this was a bad idea.

"Maybe we should... Get out." Dean said before he said anything else he thought he might regret.

Sam's face got all confused the way it often does, and when Dean went to swim away he said "no, I... I like it... out here. It's quiet."

Dean swayed back, but he was fairly certain he wanted to get out. The truth was, after their little week sans Dad four years ago, they hadn't spoke about what they did, hadn't even considered doing anything else, and aside from the occasional prolonged glances (mostly at night before they got into bed), they had pretty much pushed everything that happened under a rug. They slipped right back into strictly-brothers-mode with ease in the weeks that followed.

And for the longest time Dean was alright with that. Because he knew it was the right decision. And he knew, or at least he was fairly certain, that Sam understood and grew to feel the same way he did.

But lately, Dean found himself staring a little too long at Sam, usually at his body, in the mornings where Sam slept in a little longer than Dean, for instance. Dean had to peel his eyes away from his exposed thigh and the way his boxers rode up around the bulb of his butt cheek. He didn't know the exact moment he started to become _attracted_ to his brother physically, if that's even what it was, but he was fairly certain it had to do with his recent jolt into puberty.

And here and now, in the water, Sam was staring at him intently behind those dark cat-like eyes he had, soaking wet, and Dean found it increasingly difficult to breathe.

"I'll go get the towels," he said, because he knew he couldn't say anything else.

He briefly heard Sam calling his name as he swam away towards the pier.

 

Sam was sitting on the edge with his legs still in the water when Dean came back carrying a folded up towel that he grabbed from the bathroom. He had another one wrapped around his waist.

Sam stood up and shivered as Dean came towards him. Dean wrapped the towel around Sam's shoulders, unable to look him in the eye. And when Sam took it from him, clasped it tight in front of himself, Dean rubbed his arms briefly before saying "there, warm you up."

"Thanks..." Sam said quietly, trying to catch Dean's eyes and read them.

"Now come inside before you catch a cold," Dean called over his shoulder as he walked back toward the cabin.

 

xxx

 

In the early hours of the morning that followed, Dean found himself lying awake thinking. He hated it, because he was really tired and never usually woke up before nine on any given day, let alone a Saturday. But it was seven and he hated that he kept glancing to his side, over at Sam on the other bed (they had downgraded to sharing a room again since the move), who lay sprawled on his stomach hugging his pillow.

Then Dean started hearing small noises coming out of Sam, soft grunts and sighs.

At first, Dean thought he might be having a nightmare. He had those pretty often. But then he started moving a little, his hips occasionally grinding down into the bed.

And Dean just watched him, and suddenly he was pretty sure he knew exactly what kind of a dream he was having.

"Dean..." came out of Sam's mouth then and Dean froze, unblinking. He didn't just —

And Sam sighed deeply one more time, his hips pushing and legs spreading further, rubbing, and then his eyes shot open as he jerked awake.

They stared directly at each other, but most of Sam's face was covered by his arm and the pillow. They were both frozen.

Of course, it could have just been a misunderstanding, but there was no denying that Sam looked absolutely mortified as he turned his reddening face away.

 

xxx

 

Dad never told them how long he planned on being gone for. For the next few days they stayed inside, or went out back, not really doing much of anything. Dean hated days like this. He found ways, though. Little ways to occupy his time like shooting off a few rounds in the trees or cleaning his guns or adding salt to silver bullets. He needed something to keep his mind busy, otherwise he'd probably go insane. There was a wood behind the cabin next to the lake where Dean started to spend most of his time. He found himself fond of the way the canopy of trees created a chaos around him and prevented him from seeing anything else. Sam briefly asked him one afternoon where he went all the time, but he really didn't know what the big mystery was.

 

The fifth night they were alone, Dean decided he needed to go out. There was a local bar he went to with Dad when they first came to town a week ago that was calling his name. In a sudden impulse, he invited Sam, even though he was still too young to drink. They hadn't been spending much time together lately and he thought it might be good for both of them.

"No, you go ahead, Dean. Have fun," Sam had initially responded.

But when Dean insisted "come on. It'll be good for you to get out of the house," Sam couldn't really refuse.

 

They drove the impala up to the bar. Sam sat in the passenger seat, not really too excited about this whole outing. He hated bars. But Dean hadn't asked to do anything with him in months, so he figured it didn't have to be that bad.

The place was dark and loud and smelt like cigarettes. There was a pool table at the back where a bunch of men were hanging around with drinks in their hands.

Dean ordered a beer, taking a seat on one of the stools. "And a coke for my brother, here," he added, winking at Sam. "Drinking age still twenty-one."

 

If Sam had even remotely thought there was a possibility he would have a real conversation with Dean tonight, he was wrong.

A cute brunette with big eyes and too-rosy cheeks took the stool next to Dean and because of that Sam spent the night testing the range of his spinning seat and catching glimpses of a game of darts to his left.

Minutes quickly turned into hours and Sam glanced at his watch. It was almost eleven o'clock. He kept hearing fragments of Dean's conversation with the girl, but mostly it just sounded like Dean showing off by making up stories to go with the scars on his body. The girl was laughing a lot but Sam was rolling his eyes.

It was a quarter past eleven when Sam stood to go to the restroom at the back. He just sat in one of the stalls for the change of scenery. That and it was much quieter in there. He didn't have to listen to drunk people or a phony version of his brother, for that matter. A pair of feet stumbled in, the commotion of the bar following him. Sam sighed, and then he was starting to wonder why he even came. He was hungry and tired and annoyed.

So when he came back out, he walked over to where Dean and the girl were sitting (now nauseatingly close), and cleared his throat.

Dean turned the second time he did, eyeing Sam up.

"Dean, I'm gonna go."

Dean gave him a devilish smirk. "What's the matter, Sammy? Past your bedtime?"

Sam couldn't help but glare, even if Dean was just messing with him.

"Alright, alright. Let me finish this, okay?" Dean sighed, and Sam wasn't sure if he meant his beer or whatever he had going with Rosy Cheeks.

Sam wandered toward the door. He really didn't mind even if he had to walk back. The fresh air would be nice and that way Dean could stay if he wanted.

Some beefy guy who smelled like whiskey and sweat stumbled into Sam, almost knocking him over. "Whoops! Sorry, son," he said, snickering. Sam feigned a forgiving smile.

Then he watched the girl whisper into Dean's ear, intimate and close, just before Dean got his coat on. He walked toward Sam with a stupid grin on his face.

 

In the parking lot, Dean said "so what got your panties in a twist?"

Sam shook his head as they approached the impala. "Dean, look man, I'm cool with walking. Don't let me hold you back or anything."

Dean made a face. "Don't be stupid. I'm not gonna make you walk three and a half miles."

They both slid in, shutting the doors. Sam looked out the window, out into the darkness, as Dean started up the engine. They pulled out of the lot and started on the long, narrow road.

"Really, man, what's wrong with you?" Dean asked, glancing over at Sam.

Sam watched the passing trees zoom by, the lines creating a chaotic blur in the darkness. "I don't know, Dean. I'm just trying to figure out why you wanted me to come, that's all." He didn't take his eyes away from the window.

"What are you talking about?"

Sam finally looked over. "Dean, I don't think you spoke to me once the whole time we were there. Hell, you barely even _looked_ at me."

"Sam, I don't —"

"You've been ignoring me for days." Dean gripped the steering wheel a little tighter. "Don't pretend it's not true. I just want to know why."

Dean sighed, his jaw clenched. "I haven't been ignoring you, Sam."

"Well, I haven't seen you." Sam let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. "I just wanna know if it's something I did."

Dean suddenly looked distressed, his eyes dark, set on the road in front of him. "You didn't do anything."

 

When they arrived back at the cabin, Sam immediately went to the kitchen and got out some bread to make a sandwich. He could hear Dean behind him taking off his boots and then the creak of the floor as he walked into the living room.

Sam spread some cream cheese on the bread sloppily, his hands moving too fast.

"Sammy, look..." Dean said from behind him. "I'm sorry. You were right."

Sam briefly stopped and looked up. Had the words _I'm sorry_ actually just come out of Dean's mouth?

"Hey..." Dean said in a hesitant voice. "Want to take a dip?"

"No, Dean..." Sam continued spreading the cream cheese. But when he looked behind him, Dean was giving him his best smile.

"Come on, you know you want to..." And then Dean was slipping out the back door.

The sandwich suddenly didn't seem very appealing to him. The truth was, he wouldn't mind attending another late-night rendezvous by the lake with Dean. The last one had ended too abruptly, just as Sam was starting to actually enjoy it. And after all, Dean had already said sorry. That must have taken a lot because he never used that word lightly.

 

When he came out, Dean was already in the water. Sam walked slowly up the pier, deliberation in each step. Sam didn't know why neither of them said anything, but tonight, out here in the brisk canopy of the night, words somehow weren't needed.

Dean bobbed in the water, watching Sam's every move.

Sam pushed his hair behind his ear then looked down and slowly popped the button of his pants open. When he stepped out of them, he felt the cool air tickling the tiny hairs on his legs and causing his skin to perk up with tiny goosebumps. When he looked back at Dean, he was just watching him, his eyes dark and unreadable.

And then he stripped out of his shirt, too, peeling it over his head and letting it fall out of his hands. His feet made soft patters against the wood as he walked up to the edge, then he dropped down and slid in, allowing himself to completely submerge in the icy water. A coolness flooded his senses and filled up his ears. For a moment down there, everything was tranquil. Not a sound. And he was absolutely weightless.

When he surfaced, it was so dark he had to allow his eyes time to adjust at first, but then he saw Dean again, with the glow of the moon and the soft light from the house.

Dean swam towards him, rested his head against the pier and looked up. Sam looked up too. The sky was so clear tonight.

"Three hundred billion," Dean said.

Sam looked over at Dean. The white light from the moon cascaded over his chin and Adam's apple, accenting the tiny droplets that slid off his skin.

"Give or take." He glanced at Sam.

Sam couldn't conceal a small smile. "You looked it up."

"I might have."

Sam smiled wider, looking away. Then he bumped Dean's elbow with his own, and Dean bumped back.

Sam rested his head against the pier now, too, and for the longest time they just watched the stars without saying anything. There was a faint melody being sung by crickets, on the land behind them.

Sam's heart was racing in his chest, though he knew it wasn't just from the temperature of the water. He knew this feeling all too well, but it had been a while since he experienced it. His pulse would quicken and his stomach would jump around until he decided to do something about it. Finally, he opened his mouth to speak.

"Dean... do you ever... think about that week Dad was away, a few years ago?"

He kind of wished he could shove the words back in his mouth because Dean was silent for a few moments. Too silent. Sam didn't even dare look over.

But then his voice came, and it was soft but sure. "All the time."

Sam looked over at him finally, and it was like this huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders because for the longest time he thought he was crazy for thinking about that still, and as often as he did. He remembered what it felt like having the taste of Dean in his mouth, having his strong body behind him, having Dean's hands all over him. It was a feeling he would never forget. Since then he had been on a few dates with girls and while they smelled nice and their lips were soft, they weren't Dean. They could never fill that place inside of him that longed for his brother.

Dean's eyes glimmered with the reflection of the water as he stared back at Sam, and he wore the same expression Sam did. Sam's eyes dropped to his lips.

"I miss it..." Sam whispered his small confession.

Dean's expression softened, but those deep eyes held a kind of resolve. He closed the space between them by sliding his hand up Sam's cheek, caressing behind his ear. Sparks ignited underneath Sam's skin with the simple touch. He closed his eyes and moved with Dean's hand. It had been so long since Dean touched him this way, with a gentle fluidity and unparalleled affection... It made Sam's heart flutter in his chest remembering just how much he really did miss it.

Sam let himself drift closer, feeling Dean's body heat radiating off of him. He opened his mouth as Dean pulled him in, and the memory of Dean's scent, one that was all his own, filled him up and took him over.

Their bodies pressed into one another under the water, their mouths faltering, not quite touching yet. It was like as soon as that boundary was crossed again there would be no going back. Because Sam was older now. They both were. And they both knew exactly what they were doing.

So when their mouths finally collided, there was at once an absence of doubt.

 

Sam's lips tasted just as sweet as Dean remembered, and instantly he wanted more, wanted his tongue, wanted to kiss and feel him everywhere. Dean sucked on the tenderness of his mouth, never wanting to let it go. Sam made small moaning noises and let his legs float up around Dean's waist. Dean felt a hardness rest against his stomach behind cool cotton, but there was no real urgency in the way Sam just let it sit there, continuing to suck and bite at Dean's lips.

Moments later Dean propped Sam up on the pier and stayed in the water in between Sam's spread legs. Sam made a little noise at the abruptness that Dean just wanted to devour. Sam wrapped his arms around Dean's neck and licked at his lips again. Dean opened for him and slid his hands all the way down Sam's wet thighs then up again, pressing under the hem of his boxers. Sam let out a shaky moan in Dean's ear when Dean moved to suck at his neck.

It was like everything Dean had been holding back over the last few years was spilling out of him now and boiling over, governing his actions. His thumb brushed against the bulge under Sam's boxers and yeah, he was certainly a lot bigger than he remembered. And Sam was so much more sure of himself now, meeting Dean's aggression and giving it right back to him. Dean kissed a trail down Sam's dripping chest, and when he reached one of his nipples Sam tossed his head back. Dean pulled Sam's body in as he kissed lower, over his ribs, his belly button...

When he reached Sam's soaked boxers he mouthed at them, and Sam jolted and grabbed on to his shoulders. Dean looked up at Sam from between his legs, up at his beautiful little brother, who contained an anxious kind of excitement.

Dean's arms rested on Sam's thighs as he sucked at the drenched fabric, feeling Sam underneath responding to his mouth.

Sam let out tiny high-pitched gasps every time Dean's mouth hit him in the right place just at the head. His length was thicker than ever within seconds.

And Sam leaned back on the pier as Dean peeled his boxers down painfully slow. His eyes were desperate, his brows wavering. It looked like it was almost hurting him. Dean flicked his tongue over the sensitive head of Sam's cock, watching him jerk and whimper. The full length of his cock was just as big as Dean's was now ( _maybe even a little bigger_ ; he would _never_ admit out loud) and was responding by twitching in his hand and getting all wet at the tip. Dean let it slide easily into his mouth, holding the base.He felt Sam's whole body jolt at the contact and loved every little noise that came out of his mouth.

"D — ahh," things like that.

A minute and a half and Sam was clinging on to Dean's shoulders again and his whole body was shaking. It was when Dean looked up, his fist running up and down the hard shaft, that Sam came, crumpling into Dean. Dean felt his come hit his cheek and his shoulder and the crease of his neck. Sam was letting out a litany of choked-off sobs as Dean continued to stroke him through it, and Dean could feel the tremors erupting out of him and the hot blood pulsing through Sam's cock underneath his fingers.

It seemed as though everything that never happened between them, ever since that week four years ago, had just been eagerly anticipating this moment in time.

Dean pushed himself out of the water when Sam had somewhat caught his breath and moved over him like a moth to a flame, never breaking the magnetic connection that held their bodies together. Sam smiled against his mouth, still panting heavy and coarse.

Sam lay under him on the boardwalk, lit blue by the moon, pulling Dean in closer. Their body heat commingled, and Sam spiritedly reached for Dean's boxers but the truth was Dean didn't care for getting off right now. It was somehow enough just having Sam there, feeling him, making _him_ feel good. He was certain now that there would be time for that later. So he halted Sam's fumbling hands and kissed his mouth soft and definite.

Sam pulled back, confused.

"Your lips are purple," Dean stated. "Let's go inside."

"But... Dean —"

"Come on." Dean pulled him up by his arms and Sam, still a little dazed, stumbled into him, tugging his boxers up.

They gathered their clothes and shuffled toward the cabin.

 

"Get in the shower. Go on," Dean encouraged once they were inside.

But even if Sam wanted to argue, he was still too out of it to protest. And he _was_ dripping wet and pretty cold. He wanted to suggest Dean take one _with_ him, but Dean was already drying off and didn't seem up to persuasion.

Still, Sam couldn't suppress a wide smile as he stood in the shower. He felt like he had been waiting far too long to feel that good again.


End file.
